


Cold

by somehowunbroken



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-09
Updated: 2010-09-09
Packaged: 2017-10-11 15:23:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/113852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/somehowunbroken/pseuds/somehowunbroken
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: hc_bingo: 'cuddling for warmth/snowed in.'</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cold

“Cold.” Torren’s teeth chattered. “Mama.”

“I know,” Teyla responded, pulling Torren’s coat more tightly around him and holding him against her chest. “I know it is, little one.”

“Back to ‘Lantis?” Torren asked hopefully, turning his face up to look at his mother. “Uncle Rodney cocoa.”

Teyla smiled, going for the distraction. “Yes, Uncle Rodney will give you cocoa when we get back,” she promised, hoping that she could talk her friend into giving up some of his secret stash. She thought that, in this instance, she might not have a problem. “Perhaps we can convince him to put some marshmallows in it as well.”

Torren’s eves widened, and his mouth turned up in a smile. “Marshmallows,” he said definitively. “Uncle Rodney cocoa marshmallows.”

Teyla looked around and took in their surroundings. The snow had nearly buried them overnight, and if it continued for much longer, Teyla would have to find a way out of the small tent and continue their struggle towards the Stargate through the storm; it would be difficult, and she would have to leave most of their supplies behind, but it would be better than freezing to death in the heavy snow.

Normally she would not worry; after all, if she missed her check-in, surely John would come through and find her and Torren. However, she and her son were supposed to be tucked safely into the Athosian village for the next three nights. When the storm had started to gather in the distance the evening before, Teyla had made the decision to head for the Stargate, wanting to be back in Atlantis rather than staying in the village for the storm.

Teyla shook her head ruefully at her decision, checking the level of the snow outside again. It was continuing to collect against the tent, and Teyla dropped the flap, preserving what heat was still inside. She turned back to her son, hoping to distract him further. “If you are going to ask Uncle Rodney for cocoa and marshmallows, then what will you ask of Uncle John?”

Torren took the question very seriously, cocking his head to the side and frowning in an expression that Teyla had seen in the mirror many times. She hid her smile as she studied her son. He was shivering slightly, huddling into her side as he thought. “Race car,” he finally decided. “I beat him!”

“I know you did,” she reminded him. Torren had been delighted that John’s car had mysteriously stopped working in the middle of their race, and by the time he had gotten it going again, Torren’s tiny car had already crossed the finish line. John had just grinned at her when she raised an eyebrow, shrugging a shoulder.

“I don’t know what happened,” he’d informed her. “But Torren won, fair and square.”

Teyla smiled at the memory, rubbing her hands up and down Torren’s tiny arms. “What about Uncle Ronon?”

“Pie,” Torren said immediately. “Uncle Ronon pie.”

Ronon had some sort of understanding with the men in the kitchen. He traded sparring lessons for baked goods, and since he had found out that Torren had a special fondness for the apple pie from Earth, he made certain that he always had some on hand. Torren asked Ronon for pie nearly every time he saw his uncle.

Torren tugged on her arm. “And Uncle Woolsey songs,” he added, and Teyla could not hold her smile back this time. Mr. Woolsey had watched Torren a few times, mostly only when nobody else had been available to do so, and Torren had fallen in love with the man’s classical music.

“And music,” Teyla agreed. She shifted her gaze to the snow still falling outside the tent. She made her decision and smiled down at her son. “Come, Torren. It is time to go home.”

“Home,” Torren agreed, standing. “Cocoa and marshmallows and race car and pie and music and home.”


End file.
